


The routine

by MisakillDatMonkey



Series: Saruhiko and Misaki were sitting in the tree... K I S S I N G [1]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: DON'T BE FOOLED, M/M, Sorry :D, Sorry again, There's angst in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 12:33:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5744017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisakillDatMonkey/pseuds/MisakillDatMonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But now, they also meet for lunch. On Tuesdays. It’s the only day Saruhiko’s schedule allows it. Misaki’s heart secretly jumps and does backflips in his chest every Tuesdays when he knows he’s about to join Saruhiko to share their meal.</p><p>It’s stupid. He’s just a big sap, enjoying something as simple as sitting next to his best friend in a park or on a bench, talking about everything and nothing as they eat what he cooked during the morning. Yes, it’s utterly sappy. But Misaki loves that. Being with Saruhiko, only the two of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The routine

“Tch! Stupid monkey,” Misaki groans but don’t fool yourself. He is actually pretty fond while he does so. He’s rummaging through the cupboards when he finds the pair of grey chopsticks in the middle of the spices and herbs. Saruhiko is not allowed to come near the kitchen except for doing the dishes – when Misaki permits it. The swordsman simply doesn’t know how a kitchen works. He’s a total disaster.

Misaki secretly loves him more just because of that. Of course he won’t tell him or he will never hear the end of it. But it’s endearing, how Saruhiko tries – and _pretends_ not to try – hard to fit, and help him with the chores, just to completely fail in the end.

The vanguard stirs the ingredients together peacefully, adding the spices he found eventually. He hums quietly, not even aware of it, and smiles contentedly when he tastes the food, licking at the spoon on purpose. Then he reminds himself Saruhiko is not there and it’s stupid to do that because no arms will circle his waist and no lips will peck his neck. He’ll do it again tonight, though, and this time, he’ll probably have what he wants.

Misaki hurries to prepare the bentos, now. He can’t help but give repetitive sideway glances to his watch. It sits on the kitchen counter and remembers him he needs to go soon if he wants to meet Saruhiko in time.

They _are_ a thing now, and it’s new. It had been only half a year and Misaki knows for sure he doesn’t want to mess that. When they moved in together again, and started to _be that thing_ , Saruhiko hadn’t left Scepter 4 yet. They have to deal with leftover strains daily, after all.

But now, they also meet for lunch. On Tuesdays. It’s the only day Saruhiko’s schedule allows it. Misaki’s heart secretly jumps and does backflips in his chest every Tuesdays when he knows he’s about to join Saruhiko to share their meal.

It’s stupid. He’s just a big sap, enjoying something as simple as sitting next to his best friend in a park or on a bench, talking about everything and nothing as they eat what he cooked during the morning. Yes, it’s utterly sappy. But Misaki loves that. Being with Saruhiko, only the two of them.

He places carefully the lunch boxes in his bag, and grabs his skateboard. In the entrance, he trips over Saruhiko’s shoes. _Again_. Seriously, no matter how many times he tells him to put them aside, that monkey won’t listen. He sighs and opens the door anyway, greeted by the warmth and the sun. It’s a beautiful day for May.

The chestnut head lets the skateboard hit the floor and jumps on it. He can’t wait anymore. It has been six months and it’s always the same excitation coursing through his veins from the sheer idea of meeting Saruhiko. It’s almost sickening, that romance and he laughs at himself, his shoulder trembling slightly.

It takes twenty minutes to reach the park. He doesn’t know why but it had been a month and Saruhiko doesn’t seem to want to meet anywhere else now. Maybe it’s because of the nice weather? Misaki doesn’t really like this park, there are more beautiful ones around Tokyo, but he complies. In the end, he couldn’t care less where he meets his lover, as long as their routine doesn’t stop.

He can’t use his skateboard in that park. There’s only paths of gravel between long patches of grass with stones and a tree here and there.

Misaki heads for the big weeping willow, zigzagging between the stones and the flowers. He’s the one who chose to meet under that tree. He likes weeping willows. It’s a beautiful tree and the place under it is shady. It’s the perfect spot.

The red vanguard drops next to a big stone and grabs his bag, opening it slowly. His heart races in his chest, hammering against his ribcage. He knows he’s stupid, they do that all the goddamn time, he should calm down! He chuckles nervously as he puts the lunch boxes in front of him. Misaki looks behind him, at the entrance of the park, and sees no one. He allows himself to breathe out heavily. Just be _cool_.

“Hi, Saru!” He says almost shyly, rubbing the back of his head with a hand to hide his embarrassment.

He pushes the bento toward the stone with resolution and a bright smile, then he looks up.

The smile waves.

“I didn’t put any vegetables in there, alright? So you have to eat all of it!” He adds, and his voice is terribly uneven.

Come on, he did it so many times… “And your fucking shoes were in the middle of the way, again! You trying to kill me?” He laughs awkwardly and chokes miserably. “Of course, you are.”

The melody of his laugh twists and he bites back a sob. “You fucking are, stupid monkey.”

Misaki’s hand jerks and he tears at the grass abruptly. He doesn’t laugh anymore. He just stares at the gravestone with glassy eyes, his mouth twisted in a grimace.

It had been a month, now, that Saruhiko is there, under that weeping willow, waiting for Misaki every Tuesdays. And during all that month, Misaki kept coming, never missing an appointment, hot searing tears running down his cheeks. Saruhiko never eats his lunch, no matter how Misaki cooked it. And Misaki silently sobs, wondering why that strain dared to break their routine.

**Author's Note:**

> I said "SORRY" so...  
> I don't know why I wrote that. No idea.  
> And I know I didn't use the "Major Character Death" since Saruhiko is already dead and... it would ruin it I guess.  
> No really I'm sorry ;_;


End file.
